


Whipped

by iLurked



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU Post 1x15, F/M, Future Fic, Import from Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Written pre 1x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLurked/pseuds/iLurked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had Grant wrapped around her dainty little finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whipped

“Would you like milk or lemon on your tea, Mr. Cuddles?”

Grant Ward felt a bead of sweat fall down his spine. He was careful to weigh the choices given to him, knowing that the wrong answer may mean it was game over for both of them. 

“Milk, your royal highness.” he finally replied when he was beginning to see the impatience cloud his tea companion’s pretty face.

It must be the right answer as her royal highness beamed at him and poured milk into his tea. She stirred the concoction vigorously then nudged the delicate teacup towards him.

He barely suppressed a grimace when he laid his hand near the teacup. There was no way his large fingers would fit into the dainty cup’s handle. “Uh—”

Immediately, her royal highness’ face crumbled. “Don’t you want the tea I makes you, daddy?” her teary, tiny voice, which vacillated between her mother’s British and her father’s American accents depending on the situation (and who she was trying to manipulate), almost broke Grant’s heart.

“No, no,” Grant was quick to reassure his four-year old. “I love it.” foregoing the tea-drinking etiquette his British wife had painstakingly taught him, he grabbed the teacup with both hands and quickly swallowed a mouthful of the room-temperature liquid. The water tasted funky, and he tried not to think too hard of where the little girl got the water or the pretend milk she added into it. “Thank you, Emily.”

The beam the girl gave her daddy was immediately lost in his using her name. “My name is not Emily.” she crossed her arms mutinously.

Grant suppressed a groan. Of course not. It was Queen President General Chief of the World Wide Universe Purple Widow (thank you for that, Romanoff), or simply, her royal highness.

“I apologize, your royal highness.”

“Okay, but you gots to drink more tea.” dimpling at the father whom she got wrapped around her finger, she poured him more.

Grant was poised to drink another cupful (anything for his little girl) when he heard a strangled sound from the doorway (thankfully).

It was Fitz.

“Jemma!” Fitz called out smugly. “I found the pink boa and the silver tiara I was supposed to give to Emily. Your husband’s wearing them.”

Ward glared at Fitz when the scientist whipped out his phone, chortling, “The guys at HQ are never going to believe this!”

Thankfully, before a picture could be taken, Ward was saved by his little girl.

“Uncle Fitz!” Emma gasped as she jumped up to give her favourite person in the world a hug.

As Fitz crouched down to hoist the little girl into his arms, Ward poured the “tea” in his cup back into the teapot.

“Hello, princess,” Fitz gave the girl a kiss.

“My name is not princess,” she said primly. “It’s Queen President General Chief of the World Wide Universe Purple Widow.”

“My mistake, my sweet.” Fitz said.

Emily started to redden with tempter. “It’s not sweet, either!”

“Your royal highness,” Ward interrupted before the girl could throw a temper tantrum. Emily may be his flesh and blood and she may be the perfect miniature of her mother; but she inherited a pair of lungs directly from her Uncle Fitz. She was loud and could sustain her wails for hours at a time, terrorizing not only her parents but her four elder brothers as well. “Didn’t you tell me that you want to ask Uncle Fitz something?”

Emily gasped in delight and desperately wiggled down from her perch in Uncle Fitz’ arms. “Auntie Skye gave me stuffs. She promised you’d help me braid my hair.”

“What?” Fitz asked in horror even as he allowed himself to be dragged towards Emma’s bedroom.

Ward grinned as he slowly extracted himself from the ridiculously pink and dangerously low table and chair. His bones groaned in protest. He was becoming old, he was feeling his age already; but life was good.

“No!” Emily screamed from the bedroom. “This is terrible, Uncle Fitz! Again!”

Yep. Life was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Twitter convo with Thea :)


End file.
